Catch Me If I Trip, Fall, Or Likewise
by VanillaSpiders
Summary: When Shawn gets shattered, he withdraws into the mindset of a child. Now, there’s only one person who’s broken through to him, and Lassiter isn’t sure he is up for the job of bringing back the psychic. Not that he has much say in the matter, but still...
1. Chapter 1 recently edited!

When Shawn gets shattered, he withdraws into the mindset of a child

**When Shawn gets shattered, he withdraws into the mindset of a child. Now, there's only one person who's broken through to him, and Lassiter** **isn't sure he is up for the job of bringing back the psychic. Not that he has much say in the matter, but still…**

**This is my first **_**Psych**_** fic, and I'm honestly doing the best I can. A lot of my other stories have been put off, merely because I lost the files after my computer crashed-and I was getting sick of it anyway. **

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the below mentioned characters. Thought I guess I own the rapist…and this isn't really a comforting discovery mind you.**

**I do, without any hesitation, implore this story to ****APineappleAwayFromPsycho,**** because both they and their stories rock. **

**And they're my betareader! xD Thank you so much, you are wicked awesome!! **

**Chapter One: Broken Into Bite-Sized Pieces**

Shawn Spencer wished Gus was back in town that he wasn't going to get back in four days. That he hadn't left at all in the first place. At least his best friend could have taken him with him!

…but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that the drunk was pinning him down effectively, his cell phone was halfway across this goddamn alley, and Shawn, for not the first time in his life but sure it felt like, was scared. The man didn't speak, so maybe he wasn't as drunk as Shawn had thought At first, but even in the dark the pseudo-psychic could make out a few important features. He memorized them instantly, and then continued his struggle for freedom.

Sad to say, it didn't quite work as he planned, but when did something ever work to perfection, especially in Shawn Spencer's world?

Detective Lassiter's cell hummed deep in his pocket and let out its shrill call, the detective flipping it out with practiced ease and giving his customary curt response into the receiver.

"Lassiter."

"Mr. Lassiter? It seems we have a Shawn Spencer here-" the detective lay his head on his keyboard. "And you are the second on his call list, so-" Lassiter felt nothing wrong with interrupting the nervous sounding young woman.

"If I'm second on his call list then I better not be the one being called first."

"Well, the first number is a Burton Guster, and he seems to be out of town…therefore we figured it best if the second person on his cell listing come for him."

…shouldn't his dad be second? Or O'Hara? Why him? Wait, 'come for him?'

"Where is he?" he kept his voice low and curt, then gnashed his teeth together out of pure habit at the response. Seriously, if Spencer was drunk in a bar, Lassiter was going to pick him up-and with a police car. And read him his rights.

"At Santa Barbra hospital. He was brought in about an hour ago-severe cuts and broken bones." Lassiter sat up at this, his teeth parting and his lips opening up slightly.

"Why?"

At the sound of his voice the young woman continued her hurried explanation, while Lassiter shut down his computer and locked his papers he was working on into various drawers. He had just got his jacket slung over his shoulder when the woman's voice took a turn.

"-and despite all they've tried to do, the damage to him both psychically and mentally might have caused Mr. Spencer to-"

"Just what happened to him?"

There was a pause, and the woman confirmed the detective's suspicions. "…He was raped, we believe." The conversation ended shortly thereafter.

He uttered a low growl away from the phone as he tuned the engine in his car.

"Dammit Spencer."

A half an hour or so later, when Lassiter entered the psychic's room, he stopped dead in the doorway, his gaze resting on Shawn's form.

Mangled form.

"That's why we called someone at the very top of his list, the doctors believed it might be best for him to wake up and be near someone he was close to." This nurse obviously had taken a chance and reached out on a limb, she did not know their relationship, if it was said they had one at best. Or worst.

Lassiter was vaguely aware the apparently nervous girl was still talking, stuttering it could be said, she might not have been sure how to continue the speech now that the head detective had taken the younger man's still figure into account on the white bed in the sterile smelling room.

Despite the woman coming and pushing a chair behind his legs, so close they touched it faintly, he could not for the life of him move his gaze anywhere but Spencer's form. Bandages, some tinting red as if to mock, and bruises littered anywhere they could, Lassiter seeing bruises in place he didn't think could bruise until now. The kid's arm was in a sling, some minor cuts were left unattended without wrappings, but looked shiny and hinted that they had gotten taken care of regardless. The nurse left, showing herself the way out and saying she would see what she could do about certain visiting hours ending.

Like hell he would leave this place anytime soon.

He felt his body lower automatically into the chair, half afraid that if he stood he might collapse into it anyway. Though he was pleased with himself his leg hadn't quite given out, despite the current state his stomach was in.

Notwithstanding the brunette's current silence, Lassiter could not stop himself from but asking a small question. "Just what the hell did you go through back there, Spencer?" He whispered. The detective was all for justice, but he decided dimly that blind revenge was calling him in this certain case, and he would answer.

Later. Now he was much too tired, as if seeing the lifeless boy before him was enough to drain him as well of all major bodily functions. He would kill the bastard who did this to Shawn later. But not too much later.

'I'll just stay until he wakes up. Then I'll leave. I promise.' He prompted to himself, eyes never leaving the much paler than usual face of Shawn all throughout this.

Wait…

What was it the nurse had said? 'Someone he was close to…' Lassiter dropped his face in his hands, sighing sadly. The thing in the back of his mind surfaced eagerly once again, a question he could not answer for the life of him.

Why, out of all the people Shawn knew, did he put Carlton Lassiter so close to the top of that list?

"Why Shawn?"


	2. And I Am?

**  
****This story already has found around SEVEN alerts. Weird, but I thought I'd post the next chapter to get people hooked, and see that they like. **

**Disclaimer: ****Well, there was a pineapple in my lunch today. Does that count? **

**So here it is…THIS HASN'T BEEN BETAED 'CAUSE I'M TO FRICKIN LAZY! SORRY SORRY **_**SORRY**_

**And I Am?**

Lassiter hadn't even realized that he had drifted into a light doze on the edge of the bed until the movements and whimpering murmurs that was so totally -not- Shawn brought him suddenly back into awareness like a bucket of ice water.

He stared frozen for only a split second before bending close to speak in low, soothing tones, not quite sure on what he was doing, or if he was even doing it right.

"Easy, Spencer. It's alright now, easy…" But whatever the hell Carlton was doing, it seemed to be working. Reaching out on a limb, he slid his hand over Shawn's, which had been gripping the pale worn blanket moments ago. Curling his own rough-with-years-of-holding-a-gun fingers with Shawn's compelled the normally emotionless detective to use his other hand and tentatively brush his fingertips over mixed murky brown hair soothingly. Shawn turned his face to him at the touch, and for a split second Lassiter felt hopeful-but his face fell considerably once he realized Shawn was merely moving his head with blindness-he was still lost somewhere in a feverish dream.

Shawn was purely seeking him out on a mental level. That was it. But his pathetic whimpering and gentle whining noises ceased at that was really Lassiter's objective in the first place.

A few moments later, right after Lassiter had gained control of his senses and pulled his hands sharply (with a whiplash effect, I might add, so now they stung) into his lap, did the object of his uncertain affection wake up. Shawn, as he did in most cases, seemed to stumble into awareness-hazy and weak feeling. Of course he'd never admit that to anyone. At least he didn't think he would.

"About time you woke up, Spencer."

It took a moment for the bed-ridden man to grasp just who this stern-looking Irish was talking too. But since _he_ was being gazed at by those piercing blue eyes, (He decided after a quick speculation he kind of liked them and thought they were pretty.) He was sure this man was talking to him.

More like speaking down, but whatever.

"…Who are you?" The older man seemed to be caught by surprise, but quickly recomposed his self with such precision a normal person might have missed. But he didn't, and he wasn't sure why he was so…in tune with little details like this, but whatever.

"My name is Carlton Lassiter." He wanted to smile at this name-it was a unique name in itself, but he was quite certain he could find some really funny and cool sounding nicknames. He made a mental note of the name and face and also about that last nickname bit.

He wanted to ask this man another question, but instead he responded with something he deemed more useful at the time.

"Oh. And I am?"

Lassiter almost toppled out of his chair for the second time that day. The first sentence Shawn had said had disconcerted him in more ways than one-part of the detective wanted desperately to let this be one of Shawn's April fool's Days, which came every other day for the psychic.

The curious, humorless gaze he was receiving from the younger told him otherwise.

Without thinking, Lassiter pushed his hand up onto his face and hid a plaintive moan. "God-dammit Spencer." He hissed instinctively.

Beside him, the curious gaze turned to more confusion, slightly worried as well. "God-dammit Spencer? Is that who I am?" He said.

"Ah, no! I mean…you're…Shawn Spencer." Lassiter hide a smile this time he didn't want on his face. Something about this 'new' Shawn Spencer unsettled the man more than being shot at.

"Oh." He said softly. The name didn't ring any bells, but apparently it was his so, oh well.

Lassiter, on the other hand…

There was one thing he could do. "I…have to go." Just turn on his heel and make a break for it-get the hell out of dodge. That was what he said he was going to do in the first place, wasn't it? Regardless of the situation.

He didn't think this could ever be a situation, though.

The New Shawn didn't respond, just stared at him tiredly with that sunken fatigued look he had ever since he'd woken up. He took a step back, readying himself to leave and trying not to stumble over the chair he jumped out of.

He was in the doorway when a small supple voice shut the door, so to speak, in his face and bolted it.

"Wait…please?" Lassiter hunched his shoulders and glanced back to the forlorn little figure in the bed, which had pushed itself up and was leaning exhaustedly toward his direction. Shawn paused, glancing down, as if hesitant to make a move, but did it anyway, he had nothing left to lose.

He stretched a bandaged hand out, in silent askance and sat there with an outstretched hand in a small muddle of emotions. Shawn sniffled slightly, and Carlton had to rein his body right then and there to yield from quickening his pace to the brunette's bedside.

He settled for a steady emotion-hiding stride he perfected from years in the academy, bullpen and interrogation. But within seconds he was back beside the younger man, and Shawn pulled his hands back slowly, as if scared and unsure.

Lassiter, who would have none of that, sent his own hand after the others', grasped it rubbed a soothing thumb over the top of Shawn's. Shawn gazed up at him with hope.

"If you don't want me too, I won't leave." The head detective promised. There was a pause, and then…Shawn leaned foreword and responded with a nuzzle into Carlton's sternum, humming contentedly into the crook of his neck, and it took a few minutes until Shawn had mentally ensnared his Carlton Lassiter's unique musky smell and image into his trap-like memory.

Carlton Lassiter was his now. Shawn liked that. Out of all the things he didn't have, his memory, his life, his anything, Lassiter was now at the top of the list. Though Shawn had a feeling he'd already had Lassiter high on his list.

_**OoOooOoOoo **_

The hospital released Shawn without much hindering, they did, after all, need the beds and Shawn had woken up and was recovering nicely. He was scheduled to come back, for the doctors hinted he needed to go someplace familiar anyway, like Home; Lassiter taking further custody for the boy after discovering Henry was somewhere upstate for a fishing season. That's right, Henry had offered to take him, and he was now glad now he hadn't gone, because it was his job to bring the boy home, and that meant at the present time Carlton's apartment.

Shawn wasn't given a wheelchair, but limped nonetheless and was the object of Lassiter's recent upheaval of protectiveness, the feelings were coming in surges more and more often and this worried the detective. They loaded into his car with out problem, Shawn hissing at his lower injuries at times.

There was a stuffy pause in the car after they had pulled out onto the open road, to which the radio could have filled such silence but Lassiter couldn't be bothered to turn on, and Shawn couldn't remember what music he liked. He couldn't really remember anything, so he wasn't too worried about something as trivial as music right now. Maybe later.

"You want a smoothie?"

"…do I like those?" Shawn questioned gently as he gazed out the window at the passing objects.

He heard his man intake a sharp breath, as if in pain, but Lassiter continued after a short pause. "Yeah Shawn, you do."

Shawn turned to the man who had been the first thing he set eyes on since this whole scary ordeal. Right now, he felt this man was the only thing he could tie too, and Shawn was willing to listen to this man without hesitation and trust him with his life. Maybe he had done this before, because it wasn't hard to do right now, despite recent events.

"'Kay then, yes please." Was a gentle reply from the passenger seat.

Now, though, Lassiter couldn't find out why Shawn had put him on that list, he really couldn't find out anything. Shawn was missing.

'God-dammit, Spencer.' Lassiter thought angrily.

_**-TBC-**_

**So, Shawn loses his…I don't what you want to call it, mental health maybe? Whatever-I just want to warn people of the upcoming 'Shawn state' he's kinda a child again, innocent and unsure. And if his previous train of thought wasn't so jumbled up already, now there's adding this to the mix. Shawn's point of view won't always be clear until he picks up on the names 'Lassie' and 'Carly.' Until then (which shouldn't be to long, my loves) it may be hard to tell when he's thinking unless I come right out and say 'Shawn was thinking to himself.'**

**Despite all the alerts, no one reviewed 'cept for a handful peoples…pretty please, could someone review? Thankies for reading regardless if you do! **


	3. Can I Come Too?

**In honor of the new **_**Psych**_** episode that aired last night!! **_**Hazzahhhhhh**_

**Disclaimer: Nope. No owning here, check over at USANetwork's site, if you want. **

**The First Breakthrough (Over A Smoothie)**

They had picked up Shawn's prescription before the pineapple smoothie. When Shawn had trailed in the store behind the detective, and while the two had to doge through crowded places, Lassiter felt slim fingers clench into the back of his shirt, like a lifeline. The psychic was right on his heels, not even inches from him and Carlton wouldn't have it any other way...

Lassiter didn't need to know it was Shawn, and wasn't sure what it meant. Besides feeling a hint of uncomfortable hesitation, he took it in his stride and led the younger in and out of the store without any major complications…

They even picked up the smoothie, Lassiter all but strapping Shawn into the car, making him stay. He had decided firmly the younger had enough excitement to the outside world for today. The detective retrieved the exotic fruit smoothie with minor looks from the establishment, none of them commenting on how they had never seen this man. Usually people who came to their store were regulars. Speaking of which, they hadn't seen their best customer lately, either…

Lassiter presented the cool Styrofoam cup to the immediately after re-entering the car.

"I don't know. It doesn't taste right, Carlton."

"Why not?"

"…I just don't know."

Lassiter wasn't sure, but he flicked his gaze from the road to determine whether or not Shawn was in tears. He wasn't, yet, but he looked frustrated and confused. It wasn't that Shawn didn't _know_, it was that he couldn't _remember_.

Shawn put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples. Something was coming back...his memory taping bits and piece back together in desperation, and Shawn, for a minute was strongly reminded of puzzle pieces. He was drinking the smoothie…he looked _happy_…he felt happy….

"Shawn?"

He put a bandaged hand up in the air to silence his driver, grasping the memory like he had the back of Carlton's shirt earlier. He was sipping from the same cup in his hands, but someone was next to him, and he wasn't alone. He just couldn't decipher who was standing next to him.

But whoever they were they had taken a sip of the smoothie before he had. And Shawn remembered that if a certain someone took a sip then it tasted better.

…just **who** was that certain someone, though?

"Shawn?" Emerald eyes glanced over to icy blue ones. Just maybe?

Shawn offered the cup to the man, straw tilted enticingly.

"…Could you taste it first?"

Lassiter pulled back and didn't hide his confusion. Taste it? What on earth was his psychic thinking!?

Since when did Spencer become his? Dammit.

"Fine." Taking the cup maybe a little harsher than he had desire too, Lassiter fitted his lips around the absurd bright green straw and inhaled, awaiting the disgusting taste of pineapple to leak into his mouth.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as revolting as he had thought…

Presenting the cup back Shawn almost immediately latched his lips around the straw and pulled the creamy liquid up and them down. He smiled around the straw and Carlton couldn't help but smile in return. It was one of his practice smiles the younger had recently been trying to teach the older detective until…this nightmare.

"Where to now?" Shawn asked from behind his smoothie.

"I…" Lassiter massaged his temples from his oncoming destination. "Have to go back to work." Then, remembering that Shawn didn't remember that kind of stuff, added hastily, "To the Santa Barbra police station. You've been there before."

"Oh, 'kay. Can I come too?" Shawn raised his eyebrows, almost cutely, (Lassiter pointed his gun at the idea of 'Shawn' and 'cute' forming together in his head) and observed him, all the while supple lips never leaving the wicked witch green straw.

Lassiter glanced over; sharing a look with the psychic whose acquaintance on anything was retorted and responded hostilely by Carlton on a daily basis.

So this day just wouldn't be categorized as 'daily', no big deal, right?

Right?

**OoOoo Santa Barbra Police Office ooOoO**

In the office, things ran smoothly for a week day, much to Lassiter' pleasure. He simply sat there doing some paperwork, filing occasionally and sorting tiredly. Thankfully he had Shawn to keep him company-the younger perched comfortably on a newly cleared-space on Lassiter's desk, his body hunched over and, sipping from his large smoothie. Every now and then he would, without a word, he would stretch his arm out, pineapple curled into his fingers. And without a word, Lassiter would lean over, sometimes not even glancing up from his papers, to sip from the wicked witch green straw.

Of course there were complications-and the head detective was more than eager to get the younger back to the hospital. He hadn't been _okay_ with the decision, and he wanted to know where Shawn's sidekick was, (Gus was going to have a _field day_ with this new Shawn accident) or his father. (_Also_ going to have a field day-causing Lassiter to be keen to slip his gun and holster in to some place unreachable by the retired detective.

But the head detective should have known this relaxing sort of time was too good to last. For just as Shawn eased off his desk, (wincing at the pull of his bandages) he stood up and expertly tossed the empty cup into Lassiter's trash bin, (Shawn beamed at his man for praise at such a good shot, who responded with a smirk and nod) someone rounded the corner of the bullpen with a flourish-far away but catching Lassiter's attention not short after of a slamming of the front wide doors.

Lassiter saw the man coming long before Shawn did. His mind foresaw and ran through a hundred possibilities as he stood and stepped quickly between the oblivious Shawn and the oncoming-rampant looking Henry Spencer. Shawn blinked curiously and peeked out from behind Lassiter's bold uptight frame.

Lassiter let out a low growl of slight frustration, Shawn didn't _need_ this right now! …the hospital must have redirected the older Spencer. Dammit, Spencer, both of you. One for being old and not knowing how to show his love, the other from being too goddamn cute and innocent and in too need of protection.

"Who's that?" he asked inquiringly.

Lassiter didn't answer, but put his hands up in defense, bowing his head at Henry, who had reached them in about six strides. From _across_ the bullpen. Yes, Henry was ticked.

"Henry, wait, he's not-" Lassiter began.

"Don't you tell me he's **not**, that kid is always getting into trouble! You can't leave him alone for three minutes, you couldn't when he was three and you can't know that he's almost thirty!" The retired officer spat out, pointing an accusing finger at the shielded man.

As these harsh words were spit at him like embers, Shawn shrank behind Lassiter, kneading his fingers into the comforting fabric and inhaling the man's scent. This new guy was scary…which was weird 'cause he didn't think he looked so mean to begin with. He had been right about Carlton, hadn't he? What was so different about this man?

Henry watched this take whole motion take place, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched Lassiter reach one hand back around to where his son was as if to comfort him. The head detective twisted his neck back to look at Shawn, who had proceeded to bury his face into the back of his shirt on his back shoulder, emerald gaze wide as he locked into his blue ones.

Henry suddenly felt a rising sense of worry. He knew that look his son had, the weakened state of mind he had fallen into, he remembered these signs Shawn were giving off. The oldest man began shaking his head, as if in disbelief, catching Lassiter's attention.

_Damn. _

"No, no, _no_. Don't tell me he did it _again_. You mean _that's_ why they let him out of the hospital so soon?"

**I didn't explain **_**everything**_** I wanted to. Damn. But I needed to end it here, believe it or not. **

**No, none of you are going to believe that, I'm sure. Thank you for reading, and please review on your thoughts? **


	4. Oh and, Love Him, Alright?

**Kay…this is my favorite chapter so far. You'll see why…**

**Disclaimer:**** Just get on with reading the chapter, would you please? **

**Now, you'll see why…**

**Oh and…Love Him, Alright? **

When this realization had crossed Henry's face, he had settled down quickly, commandeering the situation with Lassiter standing in the back, both feeling and looking forlorn. Maybe what shocked the head detective most was the whole demeanor Henry had acquired within mere minutes-a different attitude and tone that had settled Shawn enough so that he had transpired from behind Lassiter, his hands slipping from the elder's shirt.

Henry had motioned for somewhere private to talk with the detective, alone, much to Shawn's chagrin, but the psychic was content enough to lean against Juliet's desk, (she would glance down and smile kindly at him every so often) to take a small nap with Lassiter's coat strewn over and pulled up to his shoulders.

Shawn dozed off, not even aware of the conversation that was being held about him in interrogation room number eight.

"This is the third time it's happened."

"What? The _third_ time? How is that-" Lassiter gazed at the man in mixed disbelief and humor.

"Don't you think that explains a few things? How oddly comfortable he is? How happy at times? The kid doesn't remember half the things about this crazy world until it's too late! …which explains why the hospital was so lax about this whole matter, to now doesn't it?"

This confused Lassiter fully. "How did…how did you get him back?" Henry rubbed his eyes.

"Like I said, this is the third time. The first time he was only five. It was me he was attached to until he…recovered the best he could. Then, when he was sixteen, and I blew up at him for being a stupid careless idiot on that bike of his, he went to Gus. You might have heard about the Mexico Border incident from Gus sooner or later?" Henry chuckled to himself as if reliving the memory right then and there, and Lassiter merely blinked.

A long pause then, "Now it's you he needs."

An even longer pause…

"…So what happens now?" Carlton questioned, fearing yet relishing the answer. Henry took a long sigh.

"Listen, I've seen how he acts around you, both now and before. There's no denying the kid thinks the world of you at times, though for what reason I'm not sure yet. But either way, the best things are to keep an eye out for him, watch him, help him, guide him." Henry had ticked the things to do off his fingers as he spoke. He got to his last finger, flicking it up.

"Oh, and…. Love him, alright?"

He received the response of a gaping Lassiter, resembling something of a fish.

Henry smirked, standing curtly up, and signaling silently that the conversation was over, despite the ten questions Lassiter still had swarming for an answer within his mind. He followed the retired detective out automatically, staying three steps behind him. Or Henry was purposefully staying three steps ahead of him, you never could tell…

"And another thing," Henry turned on his heels. "You catch that bastard who did this to my son, you hear?"

Lassiter set his jaw. "Yessir. In fact, that's what my partner is doing right now." He affirmed.

"Good." The tone of the oldest Spencer's voice used a deep threatening tone that resonated until Lassiter mentally vowed to never cross the older when it came to Shawn.

He was still smiling to himself when he got to Juliet's desk, she was standing by it, looking hurried and she turned franticly to the older detective when he emerged.

A protective sort of spark ignited within him as possible things that _could have, might have, Dear God they better not have,_ happened to Shawn ran though his mind.

"What's going on O'Hara?" his words were curter than he had intentioned. But he couldn't help it.

"Nothing with, Shawn, not really." She eased, as if she sensed the oncoming over-protective hurricane her partner could become. "It's just…I need to go and I didn't want to leave him here by himself, you know." She had everything ready, desk locked and whatnot, and she stood saintly beside the sleeping form of Shawn.

Lassiter ran a hand through his hair, and a mental image of what he needed to do…he had already shut down everything and turned in paper. He had yelled at all the right newbie officers-had his keys. Shawn had his coat, Lassiter hid a fond smile at this.

"Yeah, I'm…gonna take him home. You find that guy yet?"

"No… but we've got half the station on the look out. This guy is a repeated, very twisted offender. It shouldn't take long. He was sloppy."

Lassiter nodded halfheartedly, then stooped down and drew Shawn into his arms, jacket miraculously still slung over his body. Shawn nuzzled his nose into the cook of the detective's neck, but otherwise maybe no other moves as to if he was awake.

"He's sleeping so soundly." Juliet commented.

Lassiter nodded, "He took his medication about an hour ago. Stupidest little pill, takes away his pain immediately-then makes him narcoleptic for a good three hours after." He didn't want to smile at Juliet, didn't want her to think he was glad that she had kept such good gaurd over his…friend.

"See ya O'Hara."

She smiled gently, waving at their retreating forms. "Bye guys." Then, in a volume no one could hear but her she murmured, "You're in good hands, Shawn."

_**OoOooOooOoThe Next DayOoOooOooOo**_

Today was okay so far. He had woken up to the smell of pancakes-Lassie was, apparently, a very good cook and this made Shawn more than appreciative toward the older man who served him breakfast and let him sleep on the couch.

Lassie had then dropped him off at his Dad's, saying he needed to run some errands for certain things. Shawn wasn't sure just what they were…but he trusted Lassie, and Lassie _said_ his Dad would bring him to the station so…

His dad had dropped him off in his truck, and while no one spoke a word in the truck until Shawn said uttered a polite 'good bye' like Lassie would have reminded him, his dad looked like he wanted to say something more to him, but Shawn wasn't sure what it was-and his father seemed to quell the need to speak in length and merely said good bye as well, and that was the end to that conversation.

As the brunette pattered up the steps and under the concrete overhang, he looked around, merely glancing at times. Pleased with himself that he remembered every ones names at the station, he clipped his pass to the bottom of his t-shirt and, without a word, headed right towards Lassie's desk without any other major thoughts.

Just because he remembered everyone names, doesn't mean he had to actually _talk _to them…though Lassie had proposed the idea more than once.

Just like Lassie had promised, he was sitting at his desk in the exact same position as the long ago as Shawn could remember… albeit that was only two days worth of memories, but who was counting? And this time his desk was cleared just beside him. Shawn quickened his pace and the detective gazed up at him long before Shawn said his name.

"Lassie!" With a quiet, cheerful sound, hopped up onto the cleared space on his desk and crossed his legs, resting his head in his hands and smiling softly at his Lassie.

"Everything go as planned, Shawn?" The detective asked, before flicking his gaze back to the keyboard and screen and Shawn all at once. Shawn shrugged, "My Dad brought me. In his white grayish truck." Lassiter didn't have the last words go unnoticed. Lately Shawn had been relating things he described with color, like the yellow pineapple, the brown jacket that was Lassie's. These words were just proof Shawn was no where near to the mindset he used to be a mere week ago.

And just proof that the head detective needed to work all that harder with the younger.

"Hey guys," Lassiter' caught the wound of Juliet's voice, her smile soft and she carried a familiar white cup in her right hand as she neared them. She knew, both about New Shawn and Lassiter's current…protective state. He caught the momentary look of surprise that was on her face as she saw Shawn' position on his desk. Without missing a beat she continued, "I brought something for you Shawn, a pineapple smoothie!" _Ah_, Lassiter knew what she was up to now. She was trying to break through to his psychic, help him in his quest to pull Shawn out of the dark. They were all worried about him, after all.

Shawn had pulled his emerald eyes from Lassie, watching the blonde next to him carefully. He took the chilly feeling cup into his own hand with a practice smile and said "Thank you." without much emotion. A few moments with his grip on the cup and a memory drifted back to him.

Without even taking a sip he presented the cup to Lassiter. "It's missing something." He stated mater of factually. Lassiter, who suddenly felt very important, took the cup from his charge's slim fingers into his own and sipped some of the flavored iced yogurt from the Styrofoam cup.

Shawn missed the curious look from Juliet because he smiled widely at Lassiter and held out his hand for the cup back. As soon as it touched his grip he took a larger sip than Lassie, grinning happily. At the taste of liquid, his gaze snapped slightly, and Lassiter, sensing something, looked up and waited. Shawn was going to show off in a moment just how much the detective had 're-taught' him.

As he swallowed the smoothie, Shawn sat up straight and met Juliet's gaze equally.

"Thanks Jules." He said. For a few moments, Shawn was Shawn again.

The look on his partner' face was most gratifying.

"Taste good?"

Shawn blinked over that raucously green straw. The brunette smiled comfortably. That nice blonde girl he had met earlier -the one who had given him and Lassie a smoothie- had gone off somewhere for something or other. He wasn't sure but he had an inkling it was bad 'cause she and Carly looked all serious.

But as long as he was with Lassiter, it was really okay.

**So did you like? Oh, I hope you did!! I aim, not only to kill, (but because my license to kill has been revoked), but to please!**

**Besides, I couldn't tell you why my license to kill was revoked-because then I would have to kill you. Which I can't do because my license to kill has been revoked. xD **


	5. He Remembers How to Swim?

**I got this chapter's idea of watching a **_**One Piece**_** AMV with Sanji as the star…no really, I did. Seriously, it's not that funny!! **

**Disclaimer: Well, when it all boils down to it, hell, I don't even own the main frickin' idea!! **

**Stop laughing all ready!! Well I hit major writer's block, and proceeded to spend most of my time playing NeverWinter Nights, which is a sick awesome RPG game…but this is besides the point, now isn't it? **

**He Remembers How to Swim!?**

Lassiter, being a creature of habit, liked being in control of things. When Shawn had been Shawn, this had changed, had threatened his collectedness about every matter from ordering lunch, to being shot at-he was shot at much more often than the ordering lunch, but this wasn't really saying something…

Now that Shawn was, a few puppies short of a pet shop, Carlton somehow didn't find it _too_ hard to incorporate the younger in his daily schedule. He wasn't that much of a bother anymore, wasn't snooping around various dangerous places, stuck to Lassiter like a bur, and while Lassiter was heavily grateful he no longer had to look out for the kid in crime scenes, (But _remember_, he wasn't doing _that_ in the first place!!) he didn't so much as mind the last trait Shawn had picked up.

No one had ever clung to him, not his wife, Miss. So-strong-I-Don't-Need-a-Man-or-You, Carlton Lassiter.

"Detective, we've got the whereabouts of the guy who robbed the bank two days ago. Mike Randall."

"About time." Even if this was a very good time, his officers had done a good job but Lassiter wasn't going to admit that.

Of course this meant he had to go along and cuff the guy. This meant he had to postpone his promise to take Shawn to some restaurant he had asked cutely to go to. This meant he had to take Shawn with him to the docks where a small number of officers were spreading themselves thin to corner him…

Dear Lord on high…

"Can't I come, please? I won't cause trouble, Lassie! I'll just stay behind you, honest!"

"No, Shawn. Stay here, behind this building, so help me God if you get anywhere near the docks I will shoot you myself." But he wasn't being over-protective of the slimmer.

"But _Carly_-"

"Stay. Here."

Shawn huffed and watched Lassie disappear around the corner, the head detective flicking his coat back and no doubt fingering his gun. Other officers trailed expertly behind the leader of the pack. Sure Shawn knew it was dangerous but-

A shot rang out, sending Shawn a good three inches from his seat. From the docks. A sense of impending doom rose in his chest, fighting his stomach for occupancy of his throat. 'Lassie's okay, Lassie's okay…' Drumming the mantra through his mind wasn't that easing, as much as Shawn wished it was. A small green little punch buggie pulled up and parked beside him. Shawn blinked, awaiting the driver to get out, reveal themselves because Shawn wasn't sure who it was. The blonde form the station got out, raising one eyebrow at Shawn, maybe just the car, though.

'Oh…Juliet, wasn't it?' He bit his lip, then pushed open his door and got out, high tops smacking the smooth pavement.

"Shawn! Okay obviously since you're here Carlton's not far behind…which means they've cornered Randall." She seemed to be talking more to herself now than Shawn, but he waited patiently for her to address him. Juliet paused, looking vaguely behind his shoulder; Shawn twisted around, a white truck also parking itself. The brunette watched his dad get out. How had he found the younger Spencer?

"Shawn, listen, we gotta talk…" about what though, Shawn never found out.

Another shot rang out, a splash filling the air and the many shouts of "Detective!"

Shawn didn't think this time, didn't try to comfort himself with meaningless thoughts, he just spun on his heels and went from standstill to a run in seconds. Calls f his name sounded behind him, but he ignored both calls. These people weren't as important as Carlton was to him.

Juliet waited, caught the escaping perp hightailing it down the beach, immediately sending the other police men and woman after him, which they did, sending cautious glances at the stirring waters, one staying behind to explain what the hell had happened.

"He put a gun to an officer, and the Head Detective tackled 'em both! Randall got away, swam up to shore…but Detective Lassiter hasn't come up yet. We can't see any blood, either, ma'am."

"Lassie!" The brunette dropped to his knees on the dock above the stirring water, watching the bubble rise apathetically. All three of them had heard the gunshot-all three of them, even Shawn knew what that cracking ring sound might mean.

He felt more than saw his Dad behind him and twisted back to look at him.

"Well kid? What're ya gonna do?" Shawn bit his lip; shrinking back from the stern looking man, and he thought, what would Lassiter do if it was Shawn in the water like that? Without a second thought Shawn pushed himself of the dock, into the murkiness of the water, and therefore did not hear Juliet's call and loud gasp.

The water surrounded him immediately, little bubbles rising up and tickling his nose, but they weren't Shawn's air bubbles…before entering the water, his lungs had pulled in huge gasps of air within seconds-which lead him to believe he must has swam a slot before. A quick push of his arms and legs sent him lower, deeper, into colder waters. '_Lassie_…' he thought desperately, spotting the limp figure, ensured by his left arm and shoulder. Lassiter turned to Shawn.

His lips slightly parted, eyes closed…Shawn swam faster to his detective's side.

Juliet waited moment, motionless out of pure shock. Her eyes widened. "B-but, Shawn has amnesia! He remembers how to swim? That's not…" Not that she was looking a gift horse in the mouth, but Dear God she did **not** want to bring up two bodies from the ocean…she couldn't.

Henry shook his head. "No, I don't think Shawn remembers, at least he wouldn't if you were to come up right then and there and ask him on the street. Right now he's probably never heard of the swan dive or the backstroke. But these aren't normal circumstances…and I'm sure you've seen it in interrogation, officer. If the mind get desperate enough, the body begins to do things it can't, or doesn't know how to with practiced ease. Like an adrenaline rush."

"So Shawn-"

"He's just reverting back to his old mindset, a desperate attempt to be of some use to someone he cares the world over for. It's as simple as that."

'Not so simple if Carlton were to hear it.' Juliet thought to herself. Both of them watched the bubbles rise, steadily now, but Henry made no move to quell them and Juliet gave herself till the count of fifteen to go and get them herself.

She, of course, didn't want to ruin a good bonding moment for the two she really cared about…but bonding moments aren't supposed to come just before you drown.

**That's kinda it. Um, please leave feedback and review about your thoughts, would you? I don't really like this chapter-it seems so choppy, but I've got my mindset of clearing things up in the next chapter. This story is actually almost finished; about four more chapters should warp it up. **


	6. Can I Sleep With You Tonight?

**This is the **_**second**_** to last chapter, I'm pretty sure. Please, I spent a lot of time on this, I hope you enjoy it! And I worked really hard on it…I just hope it shows! Um, please know the next chapter may take a little longer to get here, but not much. That just means it's going to be a lot longer, kay? Thank you for reading this and keeping with me, of you are and do. **

**Disclaimer:**** Dude. No way, Jose. **

_SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE_

**Can I Sleep With You Tonight? **

_SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE SHASSIE_

Shawn twisted beneath the waves, tugging desperately at the jagged wires from some sunken sort of steel-netting that had ensnared the detective's jacket. 'Can't end like this, Lassiter. Can't…'

And then, like a phenomenon, pure and fantastic, there was an underwater tearing noise and Lassie was **free**! Shawn latched his arms possessively around the detective's chest from behind and pushed off hard from the murky mud.

They surfaced moments later, Shawn gasping air…Lassiter not.

Juliet promptly shrieked, Henry jumping into action and pulling Carlton out of the water-Shawn scrambling shortly after. He coughed for a long moment, head bowed away from Lassiter. And then suddenly, there were two people gasping for air on the dock.

"_Carly_!" Shawn forgot his own lack of air immediately, and crawled to the older detective's side, who was flat out on the dock chest heaving.

"Shawn…" Lassiter let out in a wheeze, trying with much effort to sit up. Henry propped him up-despite Juliet's statements "You should keep _still_, Detective!" and the Irish man observed the Shawn's bedraggled form. Shawn smiled, tiredly, sheepishly, at him, their faces mere inches from each other. Lassiter reached up with one sluggish feeling hand, wiping away some condensation from Shawn's cheek, not sure if it was water, or tears.

Shawn hummed a contented noise and rested his forehead on Lassiter's still soaked chest. "Heaven can wait for you, 'kay?" Carlton just smiled tiredly, letting his head fall back onto the dock, and then grinned to himself.

_Okay, Shawn. I get it, I'm yours. _

**OoOooOo**

"What do you mean you're not going to the hospital!? You almost drowned Carlton-_Drowned_!" As if Juliet thought adding that last 'drowned' would alter the Head Detective's decision. _Tch_. He had promised Shawn dinner, and he would dammed if the younger couldn't enjoy his time like he'd promised before. Shawn didn't need to see Lassiter in a hospital-and Lassiter didn't need to see himself in a hospital.

"For God's sake O'Hara, I'm _fine_!"

"But…" Carlton groaned inwardly, before checking to see if Spencer was within hearing range. (And Shawn had a long hearing range, Carlton learned that the hard way a while back.) He wasn't.

"Listen, I'm perfectly fine, despite being a little lightheaded, ordinary signs of almost drowning. Now, I want you to go back to the station and see if there's an update on you-know-who yet. Then you are to go home at the _right_ hour, no working over time. A burned out partner is useless to me. I'll check up on him too when I get back tomorrow. Right now though…" Carlton didn't say what was 'right now, though…' Because both of them knew it was Shawn. No words needed about that subject.

"And that is an _**order**_, got it, O'Hara?" He added her last name on just for emphasis along with the fact that she _**was**_ to obey.

"…Alright, but Carlton…" Juliet chewed her lip in pent irritation. He's so _stubborn_, sometimes! Still they both wanted this creep caught and behind bars. Though maybe Lassiter wanted the man worked over with a baseball bat more than behind bars.

"Take it easy, okay?"

She thought she saw him smile. A little.

**OoOooOo**

When Shawn got into the car, he let his damp head fall back onto the headrest. He was exhausted…Lord knows how Lassie was holding up. Speaking of which.

Juliet's car drove away just as Carlton seemed to drop his body in the seat, before taking and deep breath and resting his forehead on the steering wheel. Shawn sat forward toward the older worriedly, eyebrows knitting in sadness and confusion.

"Lassie? You okay?" He asked an anxious look on his face.

Carlton glanced sideways at him, then, with out taking his forehead from the wheel, he let a long tired sigh, reaching forward with one still soaking hand to touch Shawn's check with his fingertips ever so faintly.

"That was a stupid thing for you to do, Shawn." Shawn's eyes fluttered lower at Carlton's tone.

"Yeah."

"Promise me you'll never do something reckless again like that?"

Shawn parted his lips to protest, but Lassiter cut him off at the corner. "_Promise_ me?" He said forcefully, hinting the danger and just how far he Carlton Lassiter would go for Shawn Spencer.

"I promise, Carlton." The fact his first name was used only sealed the pact even tighter, zipped locked it closed and in the end of the whole ordeal the two decided to not go to dinner anyway…

After arriving home at Lassiter' apartment, they both said night but merely went their separate away about the apartment, Shawn lighting on the couch as usual and snuggling under a worn blanket that more resembled a towel pulled down from a rather obscure closet.

**That Night, at precisely 11:43, but no one's counting and Lassie's clocks are two minute ahead of themselves.**

When Lassiter, who is in fact, a light sleeper, heard his door creak apologetically open in the middle of the night in the middle o the dark, his hand twitched from under his blankets toward his bedside dresser, seeking out a certain gun of his.

"Lassie?" The word was breathed, almost desperately, and even the weird tone was enough to give away just who was at his door at the bewitching hour.

"What's up, Spencer?" Hopefully the responding ambiance from Carlton would disperse any concepts of Shawn doing something _too_ exciting or thrilling tonight. He wasn't sure he could take it.

"Can I sleep with you please?" Carlton's eyes flew open so fast he still had an after vision of a dream he had been looking forward too.

The kid thought he could sleep with him!? Tch. The great detective Carlton Lassiter was ready set and go to tell Shawn 'No.' And send the little rabble-rouser pseudo-psychic back to his **own** bed, (couch) and take his blanket, (small towel) with him. Despite the tears that _might_ arise from Shawn…

"Please?" And big tough Carlton folded like a flower. Damn. Couldn't even see him and he was cute sounding. Damn.

"Just tonight, alright? We don't want a bad habit growing out of this…" Though in all truth, Lassiter didn't partially mind something like bad habit swelling out of this sort of thing.

"Kay." Shawn fumbled with letting go of his blanket and getting his body into the bed at the same time, of course his stitches pulled and his medicine was overdue and a painful yelp sounded in the darkness before he toppled face first into Lassiter's chest, the older having sat up and had been reaching for his bedside lamp while Shawn fumbled about in the close pitch blackness of the room.

Carlton decided they could live with out the lamp, for fear of Shawn seeing his now beat red face he was positive he had. With Lassiter's aid and steady hands Shawn managed to snuggle beside the Irish man and tug a bit of the blanket about his waist.

After much 'humphing' and 'ouching,' Shawn settled down for what Carlton hoped was the last time. They both needed their sleep; a certain one recovering from Hell needed the most sleep out of both of them. (Despite the fact the recoveree _was_ the one squirming so much.)

Shawn gazed up at Lassiter, Lassiter gazing down into the dark.

"Any reason why you're here, Shawn?"

"Nightmare." In the dark, Carlton felt the shrug, and noted the signs that pointed emphatically that Shawn was close to tears in his uncertainty and haste.

A long drown out pause, and then, "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really Lassie, I just…I just want to get some rest, and you're…all I got to feel safe anymore. I dunno anymore, I just dunno." The way Shawn spoke those words…had he been having nightmare before coming to the detective? For how long? How bad had they been? Carlton was pretty sure what caused all of this-

"Look Shawn, I'm worried about you… It's… It's like you lost your spark," Carlton whispered to him, watching the slighter man carefully.

"I think I might have maybe…I just can't remember my 'spark,' Lassie." Shawn whispered softly with a sigh.

"Shawn… I want to help, how can I?"

"I just dunno Lassie…I'm sorry. I just want to sleep."

"Oh…okay…" A few minutes passed, before Carlton comprehending the fact he now had a fully relaxed sleeping Shawn Spencer beside him.

"That didn't take long." Carlton chuckled with the darkness for moment then, cautiously, drew the younger into his arms, cradling him protectively.

"G'night Spencer." He murmured. But no matter how he tried, he just couldn't resist just one innocent kiss on the top of that brunette mop.

"_**Dude, he stole that truck"! Shawn**_

"_**Great, now we got a mummy on the loose and the son of a bitch knows how to drive a stick!?" Gus **_

**Seriously, Psych's season finale was the BEST. Despite the fact it ended, which really really sucks!! **

**But it was still pretty good, a lot of good one liners, don't you think? **


	7. All's Well

**Little change of plans…because we just got a new computer, obviously anything and everything I've been working on has been lost, again! What are we going on now, like the fourth time this has happened to me!? Anyway…I lost all the stuff I had planned for this story. **

**Disclaimer:**** Don't own. I want to, would love too, but don't own. **

**So now I'll need more than one chapter to wrap things up cause…what I'm doing is just plain…well, mean dude! **

**All's Well **

Early the next morning, long after his alarm clock shrilled the whole apartment awake; Carlton watched Shawn lay within his embrace beneath the blankets.

Lassiter wasn't sure if this was the younger's new found…_persona_, but he had the slightest inkling that maybe, hopefully, the old Shawn Spencer was trickling through cracks anywhere he could, a hastened sort of virtue Shawn had, he was impatient by nature. He _wanted_ to be back, and Carlton _wanted_ him to be back.

For once, Carlton couldn't be happier to recognize this.

"Mhmn…… Heya Lassie." Carlton never knew Shawn could purr. Honestly the man couldn't be more acquainted with a feline…Lassiter's brain collided heavily with his early morning memory. _Cats_!

That might just be _it_!

Shawn woke up, a drowsy sort of euphoria yawning with him. He blinked tiredly a number of times until staring up at Carlton. "What today? Work?"

"No," Lassiter said as he sat up as well. "I took a personal day. What do you want to do?"

"Hmm…" Shawn shrugged with one shoulder, watching Lassiter disappear around the corner out of the room, and then returning with a change of clothes for the younger.

Shawn struggled with his green shirt. First it rolled forward, and then tucked itself high around his chin. Lassiter reached forward, only slightly reluctantly before grasping the folded edge of the shirt from somewhere around Shawn's chest and yanking the twisted fabric down. Which was what Shawn had been trying to do in the first place.

Shawn grinned in thanks before responding, "Anything. As long as I can do it with you, Carly."

"I was hoping you would say that. Shawn, how bout we go to the pet store?"

"Really? What for?"

"I'll tell you over breakfast."

"Waffles." It wasn't a question, and usually Lassiter gave orders.

"With pineapples." But he could take orders for Shawn-he _was_ Shawn's, it felt like.

Shawn grinned, "With pineapples!"

Of course they needed to _cut_ the insanely delicious fruit Lassiter had stocked up on a day ago. And as Shawn was hacking away at the defenseless fruit with a sort of practiced ease Lassiter was sure he was pulling from his memory, he couldn't help but wish he was the one cutting fruit and not mixing the batter.

Not that he didn't trust Shawn, he just…

"Ow!" Shawn shoved his lips over a red swelling cut he received from looking at Lassiter and not the fruit and extensively sharp knife.

Didn't trust him.

"Nice Shawn, nice." Shawn grimaced into his cut, cradling his wounded arm. The open cut was right on his wrist, obviously someone had bad aim when distracted.

Rolling his eyes at Shawn's self-inflicted pain, Lassiter twisted around, turning on the water spigot above the sink. "You know, it's gonna hurt more if you keep poking it." He scolded back over his shoulder.

Shawn crossed his arms, frowning. "It doesn't hurt." He lied, feigning indifference. A sudden firm grip on the wrist of his injured arm was followed by an insistent tug. Yielding to Carlton's hand, he found himself crouched on the smooth cold tile, his wounded arm plunged under a constant stream of ice cold water. With a cry of protest, he tried to flee backwards, only to find himself trapped against the chest of his detective.

"Oh, no you don't." Carlton muttered, reaching around Shawn with his other arm to hold the younger in place. "That more you argue the longer this'll take. So just sit still." Fighting through several more escape attempts, the detective finally felt the brunette slump against him in defeat, his complaints ceasing. "Good. This is for your own benefit anyway."

Now fairly damp, Shawn 'humphed' up at his captor. He was walled in on both sides by Carlton's powerful legs. The young man found himself fascinated by the lines of the tightly knit muscles of his friend's bare left calf.

"Just a few more-" Carlton stopped short when he felt a poke at his lower leg. He waited a moment, and the finger seemed to have stopped, so he opened his mouth to continue. "-A few more min-" The finger was back, tracing a path along the curve of the back of his leg. Carlton forced his mind to focus and willed his leg not to twitch, hands momentarily tightening on Shawn's arm. "Just a few more minutes." He ground out, and finally the curious digit disappeared.

The brunette-haired youth settled himself comfortably against Lassiter's slightly broader than his chest and stomach. "Oh, good." His arm was pretty much numb by now, but he still felt the tight grip on his wrist soften, the hands shifting to clasp the span of his arm below where he had been nicked by the cutting knife. His Carly's thumbs rose, pressing gently into the flesh around his rapidly forming bump. "Lassie..?"

"Quiet." He ordered faintly, leaning casually on his charge. He propped his chin on top of the messy early morning hair, his fingers idly massaging in circles around his companions injury. "I remember students doing this after they took a severe beating from their trainer. It's supposed to ease the pain." He felt the boy shudder slightly beneath him. "You cold?"

Shawn shook his head as much as he could with Carlton leaning on him like that. It felt really nice to fit so closely against his friend. And the fingers, calloused from years of training, were soothing the pain down to a dull ache that was barely noticeable over that scent that was so distinctly Carlton... and the steady, rhythmic sound of Carlton's breathing... Shawn's mind was trying to drag him in four different directions, after every sense with the exception of taste. But before he had a chance to act on _that_ little idea, he felt the detective releasing him and standing up.

Shawn wanted to 'humph' again-but he held it in, instead totting back over the recently abandoned pineapple. Breakfast went by smoothly after that…

_**TBC**_

**I'm too impatient to keep going. I like this chapter to much. Next chapter…**

…**Shawn gets a gift…mee-oow. xD **


	8. That Never Ends Well

They were watching each other

**Yes, another chapter, another sleepless two nights in a row. But for these two-it's worth it, believe me. **

**And, I'm sick. I think my fever wrote this for me. **

**Disclaimer:**** Every single time we do this! Urgh…no own. **

**That Never Ends Well **

They were watching each other. It was love at first sight. (To Shawn anyway.) That look he was getting, the way his joints moved were beyond a well oiled machine, sliding smoothly as he stalked closer. Shawn was entranced.

So was the other.

Lassiter was fully sure the two of them had stopped breathing.

"So….." He broke the thick hanging silence with a cough, catching Shawn's attention, and the cat's as well.

"Is that…The One?" The little kitten was given such a title because such fuss and confusion had been massed together searching for the Right One in Shawn's eyes. Carlton didn't want to complain, but after the fifth pet shop…honestly he wasn't sure where he was pulling his patience from these days.

Shawn's gaze turned back to the small, freckled little kitten. Stretching a consciousness hand out toward it, the one bandaged heavily from the pineapple incident, and waited for the kitten to pad over in his own curiosity. Which it did, of course. It rubbed hesitantly against Shawn fingers, sniffed his bandage, and then purred even more, a skinny little sleek black tail straight in the air.

"Yeah." Was all Shawn breathed.

They paid for the little guy, cat carrier recently retrieved and other cat hodgepodge things strewn about in the back of Lassiter's car. And Shawn turned to him, kitten cradled in his embrace, the puesdo-psychic stood on his tiptoes, leaned forward and pecked his surprisingly soft lips against Lassiter's with an air of finality and kindness.

"Thanks!" And Shawn was gone as quickly as he had come, leaving a needles to say stunned Lassiter faintly touching his just purged lips alone on the pavement…

Alright then.

And on normal circumstance, Lassiter would never approve of this, never, let alone cuddling and caring for Shawn, he would not let the younger get the satisfaction of Shawn thinking Lassiter enjoyed his company in anyway. When he _did_ enjoy it, in every way. But things are different now, Shawn wasn't Shawn, in a state of mind Lassiter had seen reserved only for young innocent children.

A week ago, Shawn wasn't within a frog's hair of that definition.

But now he is now, but that's what counted, more than anything.

But that kiss…it was wrong. It was bad. It was different. This was not How They Acted.

And it didn't seem to faze Shawn in his new surroundings. But then, nothing really seemed to faze Shawn, not now, not back Then.

And, what seemed to start off so right and smooth, and even hinting that Shawn maybe closer to be Back From Hell, (as Lassiter was starting to put it) of course, of _course_, something had to go to send Shawn one step forward, and three steps back.

And as Murphy said it so prophetically, what can go wrong, _will_ go wrong.

His uncertain little brunette had begged, pleaded, got down and his hands and knees and tackled Carlton full on until the older man was both swearing and laughing, to come with him to the station.

"But I don't wanna be _aloooonnne_!"

"You won't be, you've got that furball with you-"

"Please!"

"No!"

"Please!"

"_NO_!"

"….pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"……..Goddammit. Get in the car."

So, here they were. The detective duos, the unstoppable pair, the twosome most awarded for being like a…

"Married couple." Gus shook his head as he confirmed while watching the two spparing off against each other in mock verbal fight as Lassiter stormed into the bullpen, and Shawn trotted faithfully behind. The lost sort of puppy look Shawn harbored only avowed Gus' suspicions and Henry's facts that he had been told over the phone on the way back from his meeting. Honestly, Shawn just couldn't keep out of trouble, now could he?

Gus had come to the office, both to ask Juliet if she knew, and what, and because Henry had said, before hanging up the phone, that if he wanted to see his best friend, he was going to have to see Carlton first. Taking charge over Shawn's mental and physical state was something that he wouldn't originally deem Carlton Lassiter worthy, but then, it wasn't what **Gus** wanted, it was what **Shawn** wanted.

And knowing Shawn since practically from birth, Gus learned, that what Shawn wanted, Shawn got.

It was like, scrawled in the Bible, or something.

"Hello." Shawn said politely as they neared. He offered the black man a gentle grin, a grin that paled in comparison to the smirk Gus could picture on Shawn's face only a few weeks ago. Shawn saw Gus as someone who should look familiar, but wasn't. Well, this was happening slot, after a while, Shawn mused that even anyone might just get bored and brush things off. And if something wasn't recognizable, or comfortable in anyway, Lassie was right there to patch things and protect him besides the matter.

"There isn't really anything to worry about." Shawn assured, after learning a number of things about Gus, his 'best friend' he made a mental note to never forget again. (But then, he had said these things the last times, too.)

Gus sighed softly, relived and worried and confused all at the same time. He couldn't stay long and he knew he shouldn't. Carlton needed a good clear view of Shawn if they were ever going to get Shawn back. That's what had happened when Shawn was sixteen, what Gus had had to do.

Gus had gone through hell, had seriously considered going in for therapy after Shawn had been 'saved.'

But never, Gus had never seen Shawn act like this. Of course, he wasn't sure _any_ of them had, Shawn was so heavily reliant on Lassiter, like a lifeline, a rope with which to keep grappled to the reality of life with. He wasn't sure how to take it, pushed aside. Even if this meant that he had more time for his career, it didn't mean that he hadn't, well, enjoyed their cases.

Gus was really starting to wish right now that he hadn't gone on that trip in the first place.

"Well…I'd better take off. Got some stuff back at the office to…take care of." Reluctant as he was to let his best friend out of his sight, he honestly admitted that there really wasn't much that he, Burton Gustor could do. Well…damn, but if that's the way the brunette wanted it…fine, he supposed.

Shawn nodded his good bye, watched the other man leave through the wide doors, and then saw the next person who entered those doors, a person who was struggling, putting up a fight, growling like an animal, who had black hair, Shawn remembered…who had…gray eyes…who…had…who looked, in a light that wasn't bright, like an alley light, shoving him against brick walls…

Shawn's eyes widened. He knew this person. But….This wasn't a person. It was a demon. It was bad.

It hurt him.

Shawn went on his animal instinct, the only true thing he could rely on anymore.

"Shawn?"

That, and Carly.

Lassiter saw him as well. He wasn't going to need Shawn to verbally confirm the…man. The look on the slighter's face really said it _all_. In fact, it said even more.

Shawn whimpered, began backing up blindly, slowly, from the cuffed man being held merely a few yards away. Shawn came in contact with Carlton's desk, eyes wide, and muscles still sore, now very tense. Lassiter had two roads in this case.

He growled angrily and started forward, passing the dazed and blindsided Spencer and whirling by a confused Juliet until he was pinning the perp's, no, the _assaulter's_ worthless-piece-of-trash-'s body. Lassiter wanted nothing more in the _world_ than to work this guy over with a baseball bat. To rip him limb from limb and _make_ him experience the same pain, no, triple the pain, that Shawn went through a hundred times over. He settled for another deep threatening growl and harsh spoken words that could have stripped even the most brutish persona to a pale cowering figure against the wall.

And when Lassiter was done, the man was handled easily, like a kitten, pushed away, gaping mouth and eyes wide as he was led to a very dark cell by some Bud. As far as Lassiter was concerned, this was nothing less than what he deserved.

But the aftermath…

Carlton strode back to his desk, the way cleared in record time, and the officers, even if they were on his side, were cowering in corners and behind their own desks, none wanting to face off against the furious Head Detective for all the power in the world. Lassiter glanced around, the space around his desk vacant, a certain brunette absent in his time of need. Or something like that. Carlton found his psychic seconds later. Under his desk.

Well, there were odder places Lassiter was quite convinced Shawn could fit if he wanted.

Lassiter got on his hands and knees, watching, with pain stricken eyes, at the curled position, and sounds Shawn was making were sounds… because no one should ever make, least of all human.

"Shawn…"

Something in his voice must have carried his pain, because Shawn stopped shaking, took several deep breaths to collect himself, and then did his best to look up at his detective's face.

What Shawn found there shocked him. Lassiter looked like he was suffering more than _he_ was. He looked like he didn't know what to do, and he was trembling so much…

But Lassiter wasn't hurt, and he always knew what to do… The pain of his once healing injuries became less distracting and his mind was finally able to focus mostly on one thing as he reached out toward Lassiter with his left hand in silent askance and confusion.

When Lassiter couldn't seem to say anything, Shawn regained his voice. "L-Lassiter…?"

"…Shawn, I'm so sorry," Lassiter whispered. "I shouldn't have let him be brought so close…I didn't think…I…"

Shawn's eyes, still so full of amazement, widened in understanding. "…Lassiter, this isn't your fault," he said, still hiccupping from his salty tears.

Lassiter choked incredulously, but then clenched his eyes shut and shook his head to regain focus. He didn't have time to make this about him. Shawn was 'hurt' and he had to take care of him. But the frightened look Shawn had once donned was replaced slowly with an exhausted, tried gaze.

"Shawn." The mentioned flinched, causing Lassiter too as well. "Shawn, it's all right. He's gone. You're alright."

"Carlton…" A sniffled, single, murmured syllable. It wasn't even a question-it was more like an honorable mention. So to speak. Sigh.

Carlton nodded softly, "Yeah." He spoke softer to Shawn than he had to anyone in a long time. Even his wife. A very long time, that made it then. "I'm here. I'm not going any where."

"Ah…" Shawn, for once in his life, seemed speechless, lifeless, cold and shaken. Carlton wasn't sure, was reaching out on a limb, and embraced the fallen fake-psychic protectively. There, under the security of his desk. It was a miracle they could fit, the two of them.

"You're alright now. I promise." And Shawn, for all he was worth, just pressed his face into Carlton's chest and nodded softly.

Assurance is a wonderful thing, after all.

**TBC**

**Wah, their first kiss! And Lassie gets over-protective!! I am now awaiting major fangirl squeals…I got one from my friend when **_**she**_** read this… Why is this chapter so short? I would like some feedback! I don't care if they're anonymous; I need to know if what I'm doing is alright! People are still reading this….right? I'm too impatient to keep going. I like this chapter too much. Ah well. **

**The more reviews, the faster you'll all get the next chappie, m'kay? M'kay. **


	9. Back to the Future

The last chapter

**Good news people! **_**Psych**_** is coming back soon! Thank god1 Season two! Or is it three? I think we might have made it, but to stop you all from becoming worried and scared and stuff like that, make no mistake you will not miss my stories! One more chapter after this should do it. **

**No, not because I quit writing, because I'm starting a **_**new**_** story with these two, though light shassie this time. There will be a summary for the new story at the end… **

**Back to the Future?**

**By: Rivvy**

"You're alright now. I promise." And Shawn, for all he was worth, just pressed his face into Carlton's chest and nodded softly.

Assurance is a wonderful thing, after all.

What happens in the Santa Barbra Police Station-stays at the Santa Barbra Police Station.

The whole ordeal with the man and Shawn was dropped completely; nothing was said during the ride home, nothing was needed. They made it home, Lassiter leaving the bullpen with Shawn at his heels just like always, they made it to the car and the sun was shinning just like always.

There was nothing different about this day, and quite frankly, Lassiter didn't expect anything different. They ate dinner, (which consisted of subs and potato chips and ONE large pineapple smoothie, mind you,) but this was not a filling meal apparently.

"…Lassie, I'm hungry…do we have any ice cream?" Lassiter glanced up form his papers at the desk, to where Shawn was bent at the waist dangling over the back of couch with his head cocked cutely at him. The remote dangled from one disconcerted hand.

Carlton looked over the word 'we' and shook his head. "Nope sorry."

"Pineapple?" Shawn quipped hopefully.

The smile he received wasn't mean; it was full of regret, as it very well should be. "Gone, Shawn." Shawn slumped over the dull gray couch.

"Think there's some ramen in the cupboard though, want that?"

Shawn shrugged haplessly. "Kay." Carlton smiled again in regret and sympathy.

"I'll make some for you, c'mon." Dropping everything to make the brunette happy, he got to his feet, (popped his back once or twice) and made his way to the modest kitchen.

"Oh, ooh, can I get the noodles?" The look on Shawn's face was priceless, his grin stretching not as far as usual, not as far as Lassiter wanted it too, but beggars couldn't be choosers and Carlton let the brunette take over the responsibility of snagging the pasta.

"Sure Shawn." Lassiter nodded and round the corner to the living room as an excuse to not let Shawn see his smile on his face. Damn kid was too cute.

Shawn smiled happily and reached for one of the utmost shelves where the pasta rested. Standing on tiptoe, Shawn pressed his stomach, and few of his bruises and tried to make himself two feet taller before losing his balance and toppled backward rather ungracefully the cold unforgiving floor below him.

There was a clatter, a bang and suddenly Shawn was eagle-spread on the linoleum, flat on his back and lay unmoving. And in that small amount of time Lassiter had managed to have a very quick heart attack and did the hundred yard dash to the fallen brunette' side in record time.

"_Shawn_!!" Skidding to a stop beside the slumped man, Lassiter dropped to his knees with painful reactions from his joints and frantically searched for a pulse. Finding one, Carlton let out breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He was alive. Damn, such a klutz. No matter what state of mind he's in.

"Shawn. Shawn!" at this point Carlton decided he was very much worried, and didn't give a damn if the kid knew about it or not. He knew that if Shawn woke up and heard this sort of tone coming from his detective, he would become jumpy and go on the defensive, Lassiter didn't care though-the kid was scaring the hell out of him.

"C'mon, Shawn. Wake up…wake up. Dammit." Carlton swallowed, Shawn had hit his head, and that made it unwise to move him just yet. Not until Shawn regained consciousness and proved to Lassiter that he was okay. This was something that was wrong about this whole thing.

'_What have you done to me, kid?'_ Lassiter, who was sure Shawn was in a comfortable spot and was NOT dead, thank you very much, before seating himself next to the unconscious psychic. Over these past few days, Shawn had done something to the harden detective. He had slipped under his defenses, which had once thrived thanks to his wife, his walls weakened and Spencer ducked in like cat burglar. He had stolen one thing, though, his heart. Too bad that sounded like a poorly planned romance novel. Carlton chuckled, but his face became straightened and serious when he realized something crucial. Shawn threw Carlton off and made him protective and he couldn't help it.

But Shawn, in return had gone through hell, had lost everything that meant something to him.

Lassiter, in return, had realized he…needed Shawn. To feel useful and helpful again. Though you'd think his job would assert that little issue.

All the while Carlton was contemplating these past days, he was running his hand through Shawn's spiky cropped hair. It wasn't as cropped feeling as usual. _He needs a trim_, he though fondly.

Of their own accord, his long fingers found their way to Shawn's cheekbones, and observed, using their sense of touch and feeling, the crooks in Spencer's neck, his chin, the dip under his eye and the slight bend in his nose. Touching and feeling didn't seem to be enough, though, because Lassiter found himself closer and closer to those slackened lips…touch was one thing, but how did they…taste, he wondered?

Shawn might have woken up at anytime, he might not even have woken up at all, but as fate will have it, he woke right then and there.

"…eh? Lassie?" Lassiter's eyes widened and he snapped back so fast his neck cricked in a number of places.

"…" Before I continue, please realize that Lassiter has, with or without know it, had been relying on Shawn's innocence, and that Shawn had been taking anything that Carlton said to be written in stone, so that Carlton could get away with a number of things around the brunette just by talking them off.

Lassiter thought quickly and figured he _could_ just talk his way out this one. It had worked every other time for the past four days, hadn't it? Why should right now be any different?

Suddenly Shawn grinned wolfishly and his mind flew at a speed far fasters than Carlton's. "Aww, Lassie, you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet! Aren't you moving things a little too fast, hmm?" Lassiter swallowed and gapped at the slighter.

This was _not_ something that the New Shawn said. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat was _not_ something the New Shawn did. And that spark in his bright hazel eyes most certainty did _not_ belong to the New Shawn.

That meant only one thing, if you get my drift.

"_Sh-Shawn_!"

**TBC**

**Omfg this was too short I'm sorry! TTTT okay, so, cause it was short chapter you get a summary of a new story. It's also on my profile page. **

**Title name: A Game of Cat and Mouse **

**Sum: The bond between animal and man is strong. So strong, in fact, that wants become needs and a certain stray cat decides it likes stern and sullen Carlton Lassiter. Shawn the cat is about to turn Lassiter's life upside down and inside out. Especially when his genetic human/cat condition comes into play. **


	10. Psych!

I have one of my reviewers NorikuKitsune for some of this chapter-I really had no clue how to start it but their review really made me realize useful hints and tips

**I have one of my reviewers ****NorikuKitsune to thank for some (most) ,of this chapter-I really had no clue how to start it but their review really made me realize useful hints and tips! After I got the first paragraph started, it all melted into place to the last chapter which you see before you. **

**Disclaimer:**** …-insert witty yet dramatic and heart-wrenching disclaimer here- …XD**

**And now, the exciting conclusion to Catch Me If I trip, Fall or Likwise!! **

**Psych!**

Suddenly Shawn grinned wolfishly and his mind flew at a speed far fasters than Carlton's. "Aww, Lassie, you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet! Aren't you moving things a little too fast, hmm?" Lassiter swallowed and gapped at the slighter.

This was _not_ something that the New Shawn said. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat was _not_ something the New Shawn did. And that spark in his bright hazel eyes most certainty did _not_ belong to the New Shawn.

That meant only one thing, if you get my drift.

"_Sh-Shawn_!"

Two whole days had passed after this little incident. Two whole days, mind you, but the significance of two whole days was nothing compared to the fact that Shawn remembered nothing, that apparently his mind blacked out had taken every memory from the Night It Happened to Shawn waking up with Lassiter's lips inches from his own.

Naturally he told everyone who asked that he 'woke up' whilst drinking a pineapple smoothie at Carlton's kitchen table and _Carlton_ himself was somewhere very far away.

Gus and Juliet weren't in favor to believe this. Not after the way Shawn had stuck to Lassiter, not after the way Carlton had become protective and concerned of the first person in years, or so the chief hinted to them.

"I'm really glad you're back, Shawn, we missed you…" Juliet smiled then glanced behind her shoulder, Shawn had taken up residence on her desk for some reason, (and it was not that she really minded) and had been completely ignoring Lassiter like the plague. She smiled sympathetically at the head detective, who was hunched over his own work and not making eye contact and talking to anyone.

Shawn Spencer may have come back to them, but Carlton Lassiter had gotten more inverted and quiet with a hint of sternness as an after effect.

Juliet chewed her lower lip, this wasn't fair.

They belonged together. It was cute, their relationship. Shawn brought out the best in Lassiter; he made him laugh and see something else in the world besides murders and drugs and guns. And Lassiter in turn became caring and sensitive. He put Shawn before anyone and anything else, even his job, to which he was so readily addicted too.

"Shawn…listen, I know you don't remember anything that happened these past few days, but you have to believe me; Carlton really needs you right now." Shawn swallowed a sip of his smoothie and regarded the petite officer.

"Is that so?" Shawn replied steadily. His mind slipped into old dusty memories of Carlton like a glove.

He liked this man. Loved. Liked.

Love is such a strong word.

"-hink you should talk to him, after all he's down for you, I know this may be hard but…you can't just left him stay like this."

Shawn smiled softly. "Jules, there really can't be _that_ much of a difference in his-" she was cut short by an outburst from across the bullpen.

"Dammit McNabb I said '**three** creams and **four** sugars' don't you listen, goddammit!? It's like I'm talking to a bloody wall! Or my ex-wife! Damn!"

"Okay." Shawn set down his smoothie. Something was up when Lassiter mentioned his ex-wife in anything but confession.

"See?" Juliet pointed at the storming whirled-wind of a detective, who had stalked back to his desk and slammed several random drawers that he didn't even need open, causing several newbie-officers to scurry from him as if their life was threatened by Lassiter.

His response was a glare, and his eyes followed them one by one until one walked by Shawn and his eyes flickered to the younger man's face. Shawn waved sheepishly.

They hardened face softened for a minuscule instant that only Shawn's hyper sensitivity could catch, and Carlton was suddenly sitting back down with his eyes glued to the paper on his desk and fumbling for a pencil.

"You might have gotta point there, Jules..." Shawn mumbled as he pulled his protesting body from the blonde's desk.

Juliet watched his movements suspiciously, before inquiring, "Have you taken any of your pain-killers Shawn?"

"The spirits don't like my pain-killers, it makes us kinky. And everything comes in blue…" Shawn stated absentmindedly as he prepared himself for facing the Head Detective.

Juliet just shook her head and watched Shawn trounce away.

"Lassie-face!!" Lassiter cringed into his keyboard and considered jumping out the near-by window. It was wouldn't hurt that much, would it?

Spencer stopped dead in front of him and put his hands on the desk, balancing himself. "Carly, I think we need to talk…."

_**Four Hours Later….**_

Shawn sat in his apartment on the couch, licking his wounds.

Not literally of course. He didn't truly think Carlton would ever hurt him. He hoped not, cause Lassie could _really_ do some damage in over-powering Shawn. He made that apparent enough before this whole incident.

Needless to say, things hadn't gone well…

….but going into it wasn't important. 'Maybe I made a bad play. Maybe I shouldn't have shrugged-off the last four days with Lassiter.'

'Maybe…' A twinge had been in his left shoulder, from where a knife had pierced it he dimly remembered, for quite a while now. It was getting stronger…..

"Okay…maybe _a_ pill wouldn't hurt." Pushing himself off the couch, Shawn made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he was there his aches were pains and his modest twinges became a constant throbbing

All thoughts of Carlton were shoved aside in his limping and as he yanked open the medicine cabinet while leaning on the counter for balance.

'Take two as prescribed by doctor.' Shawn read of the container he'd pulled from the shelf. He popped too in and thought a moment…

'Well…_one_ more couldn't help it.' He was in a lot of pain. Swallowing the third pill, the poor thing nearly came back up when a stern and dark voice cut through the fog of his mind.

"Aren't you taking to many Spencer?" Shawn spun on his heels as fast as his aching body allowed him. Which wasn't very fast but he still knew it was Lassiter.

"What do you care?" the brunette quipped back hastily, suddenly going on the defensive. Carlton's expression, from where he stood in the door way, softened considerably.

The detective's next motion wasn't something Shawn expected. He took two quick strides and pulled the slighter into a nearly bone-crushing hug.

From somewhere behind his ear he heard Shawn heard a mumble, "I'm sorry. This whole mess. I'm sorry for everything. For not protecting you, for not taking good enough care of you….for falling for…." A choke sounded just after that and Shawn bit his lip as his eyes went hazy with…tears?

"Lassie…I…." His sentence came to a dead halt as he flinched underneath the taller of the two.

Carlton pulled back immediately, afraid he'd hurt his little brunette. "Shawn?" Shawn doubled over and probably would have come into contact with his tile if Lassiter hadn't pulled him halfway back up.

"Shawn?" Lassiter called again, his tone worried.

"I think….I think those pills are making a round trip."

The next thing he knew he was facing a porcelain angel, and he gratefully heaved up the contents of his stomach into it second later as a palm gently rubbed over his arched back.

It was about fifteen minutes later and Shawn was still thanking God and anyone else listening up there for the head detective.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Shawn chuckled and sipped his water before replying to the hovering Irish-man. "For the _eighteenth_ time, Carly, I'm fine. It was just a little stomach acid."

Carlton huffed and then plopped himself closer to the pseudo-psychic on that tacky green couch than he ever would have a week ago. "I have _not_ asked eighteen times. And you only threw up one pill. This probably means you're going to be a little drowsy soon…."

Before Shawn could answer his hiccupped and frowned softly, his eye lids dropped and Lassie's face suddenly turned darker in worriment.

The younger's world spun unkindly, Shawn felt his body lower and he couldn't stop it or pull it upright again. His glass of water was rescued from his hand. Apparently he had been heading somewhere dangerous, (and, if gravity was still working it was probably the floor) because Lassiter was balancing him with his palms by cupping Shawn's face.

Lassie has nice hands….pineapple are yummy… Mhhhmm…

"Shawn?"

"Mhhm…?" Weird…everything really _was_ coming in blue.

"Nothing. Nevermind. You need to sleep."

"But I don wanna…" He slurred, nuzzling into the nape of a certain someone's neck as strong but gentle arms picked him up and held him against a powerful chest.

"Go back to sleep. You need the rest." The detective's voice was a lot quieter than usual, than it usually was speaking to any one else, anyway.

"M'kay Carly." They had reached his bedside by now…Shawn was certain of it. He felt his bed come in gentle contact with his bed. A few mumbled words, the older man's tone sounding apologetic, and the hand sifting through his unruly mop had stilled midway through its pass, as if his companion's attention had been drawn by a sudden thought.

And then warm breath was playing over his features, stirring the murky colored strands of hair that fell across his brow as Carlton bent low above him, halting in another show of hesitation.

At length, Lassiter suddenly carried through with his motion, leaning down until the fake psychic felt a faint touch against his hairline, a pressure so subtle that he'd surely wonder later if he hadn't simply dreamed it.

With one more sigh ghosting across his forehead, his detective withdrew for the final time, leaving Shawn to rest as the last of his consciousness faded with the lingering sensation of lips upon his skin.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The next thing Shawn knew, he was on his bed. No, in his bed, all his clothes on, tangled in the sheets to prove it and all his body parts were coming into his brain and saying they were just fine. Oh good. Now he and Carly could play.

Fully enthralled by this sudden idea, he tiptoed into the living room where his heightened sensory apparatus pointed out quickly that's where Carlton was.

"You're awake." Came a voice from the couch, the TV was tuned in to a Civil War show. Yep. _Defiantly_ Lassiter.

"Wow…is **that** how to got be head detective? You sure find some pretty discreet things, Lassie-face."

Carlton rolled his eyes, sipping the coffee he just made.

Shawn observed him quietly a moment before plopping down across from the stern man in his comfy chair, as if in some sort of decision.

"…ya know…I remember that kiss last night." Lassiter's eyes shot up and his body hunched downward.

"Oh?" Carlton responded evenly.

"Yeah." The brunette began fiddling with a random tissue because it was the nearest thing in sight. "And I remember what happened while I was out of 'It', so to say. All the things you did. The pineapple smoothie, and that…man who well, you know. But I also remember how much fun you were for me."

Lassiter swallowed, 'Here it comes,' he thought. 'Shawn's gonna tell me he never wants to see me again.' The coffee was suddenly forsaken and Carlton lessened to watching the steam curl upward from the cup and tickle the rim of it…

"So do I need to get raped again for you to be so nice to me, or can we make this a long term thing?"

Shawn wanted very badly to double over laughing at the look on the detective's face. Taking caution to the wind, Shawn decided to forgo the long route and pounced unto the coffee table between them, tackling the man he decided was _very_ much fun, and would continue be just for him.

Letting out small yelp that he would sooner die than let anyone hear except for Spencer, Lassiter held the juvenile psychic as they both nearly toppled off the couch.

"You're…crazy Shawn." Was all he could muster to gasp out, the wind knocked clear out of him because of Shawn's action and because of…other things.

"But you love me anyway!" Came a sing-song voice.

Lassiter's lip then did something they hadn't done in a very long time. They curved upward and stayed there. A true blue smile.

"Wow, Lassie, you're sm-mmph!" Then they crashed headlong into a certain fake psychics' lips right after that.

He pulled away only when breath was necessary and awaited Spencer's reaction.

Shawn smacked his lips in an appreciatory manner, than dully commented, "You know this means we're engaged now."

Lassiter simply laughed out loud.

**The Next Day **

Shawn sat perched on Carlton's desk. He was reading some carefully typed up information about their next case-something to do with goldfish. Oh, and murder, but goldfish were much more fun. He sipped his smoothie with an act of religiousness. Hmm. This one looked a little challenging, but weren't they all?

A heavy head suddenly landed on his shoulder and rested there gently. "You okay?" a deep voice vibrated against his collarbone.

Shawn grinned and didn't need to turn around to know who it was. "Yup, got a new case. Wanna help?"

"Meh. Maybe." Carlton paused a moment, than pulled his body from behind the psychic and stood in front of him carefully.

"Shawn." He used his first name to receive and hold his attention, a trick Lassiter had picked up after only a few weeks of being…intimate with Spencer. Pet names only got him so far with the enigmatic psychic.

"You're going to need to make statement against Lendon." Shawn swallowed the taste of the smoothie the second he heard that name. That had been…His name. The man who had….well. You know.

"Uhhm…but, Carly…I…" Lassiter suddenly gripped his shoulders and brought the man much closer than the head detective usually allowed him to be in public, let alone his work place. But Shawn needed this.

"I know. But please, we need your statement, unfortunately, the other ones he has…they haven't made it or aren't in the condition to talk let alone appear in court. I swear to you all you need to do is say yes. I'll be right there the whole time, I _won't_ leave you."

Shawn opened his mouth after Lassiter's last words, he reflected what his lover had said and the tone Carlton had used. He knew that what Lassiter had said was the truth to the third degree; that if that bastard so much as got within three feet of Shawn, Carlton would have his gun out and cocked with seconds. That was just Carly's manner.

"Okay." Shawn mumbled. Lassiter felt the relief fly out of him in great big sigh and his body sagged in mirth.

"And when that's over, Shawn, we can go and do whatever you want. It'll be all over after that and you can put your past behind you."

"I think I'll file it somewhere between childhood memories and my dad, how about that?" Lassiter just smiled sadly, stole a generous sip of the pineapple smoothie, received a glare from his little brunette that had empty threats behind it, and stalked away to scare some new officers like nothing had happened, and nothing had changed.

Shawn grinned. Well, maybe nothing had happened in the long run, nothing out of the ordinary anyway.

Lassiter was right, what would happen; would happen, and they would cross that bridge when they came to it, then burn it down and laugh at the ashes.

**THE END. **

**P.S. No pineapples were harmed in the making of this fanfiction. **


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